The Wooden Chair On His Porch
by p3ncilcut
Summary: He would sit there every night, just to relive the misery of his mistakes... while praying and hoping for one last chance to make it right.LP ONESHOT. R&Rs appreciated. Thanks.


**BRIEF NOTES**

So, I know I still have to make that Epilogue for the first story, but this storyline's been plaguing my head for the longest time and I just needed to get it out. Thanks for reading.

**DISCLAIMER: OTH still not mine.**

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**THE WOODEN CHAIR ON HIS PORCH**

He sat alone on the low wooden chair in his porch in silence as thoughts and memories flooded his mind, none of which heavily significant… or, at least none but one.

"_Well, it doesn't really matter if I stay or I go; because I'm gonna love you forever, Lucas Scott."_

Six years… 72 months. 312 weeks. 2,190 days. 3,153, 600 minutes… That's how long it had been since he last heard those words, that night when they were to be deleted from records of Tree Hill High. She had only said it that time, and for six years now he still could not delete her words as fast as their school registrar's computer could. His heart clenched.

He shifted from the chair on the porch, but he didn't budge… couldn't budge. He was lost in his thoughts and he could not bring himself back to the shores of reality. The cool, starry nights were his nights… his and hers. Those were the many nights he would walk around campus, cellphone in hand, her voice keeping him company. Those were the nights that happened on a regular basis at first, and then it happened every other day, and then every other week, and then once every month… Until they never happened at all. Because he purposely started weaning himself from pressing speed dial 2, because he purposely started missing her calls. Because of him. His heart clenched again.

It was his fault, he knew that. It was because of him that she had been driven to surrender, yet again, to her catch phrase – People always leave. She had not once mentioned those words in the length of their relationship, not until that day.

"_Hey." He didn't need to look at his caller ID to tell it was her. Hell, he had set her up with her own ring tone._

"_Hey Luke. I missed you." Sweet. After a month of ducking her, she still remained sweet to him._

"_Yeah, me too." Stupid. Annoyed. He felt stupid and annoyed. Couldn't she just get the message?_

_Awkward silence._

"_So… I was waiting for your call last night." She waited, again. Just like the many other nights she said she did…. The many other nights he knew she did. He was a fool, but he didn't realize it just yet._

"_Yeah, I was busy." Busy, busy, busy. It was always that reason, and she always tried to understand. Damn her for even trying, why couldn't she just be pissed like every other girlfriend would be?_

"_Yeah, I figured as much, but that's okay. I feel better talking to you now." He could almost feel the smile on her face. It was a stab through his heart. Oh, yes. Lucas Scott was a guilt-plagued boy. And for him, guilt had a companion._

_Awkward silence._

"_I can't wait to come home for the break, babe. It'll be so good to see you again." Another stab to his heart. She was coming home and he had forgotten all about it. She had told him over the last conversation that she really was going to come home this time, school and internship be damned. She was willing to risk it all, and he all but forgot it. Why had he?_

_Because he was "busy."_

_That was the last straw. He couldn't do this to her anymore. It wasn't fair, he wasn't fair. She didn't deserve this. And so, in the middle of her ramblings about school and how much she hated that it was keeping them apart and how much she had been missing him and just how she intended to make up for lost time, he decided to break in…_

"_Peyton, I can't do this anymore." And break her heart._

_There was silence again, a long silence that he almost mistook as the line going dead. But she spoke ever so softly that he almost barely heard it._

"_Why?" he almost couldn't hear her voice, but there was no missing the audible sound of her breaking heart._

"_I met someone else." He said it with conviction, as if it was right of him to be finding someone else… even though he knew it wasn't._

_He heard her whimper. It broke his heart. Why could her cries still break him? He was not into her anymore. It was that, or he was only trying hard to convince himself._

"_Who?" She was crying now. He could hear it clearly._

"_Her name is Lindsey." The other woman's name was like a bitter pill in his tongue, although at that point he wasn't sure why. They clicked. They agreed. They even had good sex some of the time. So why did saying her name carry a mildly disgusting taste?_

"_Since when?" She was angry now, he could feel it. She was thousands of miles away, and he could still feel her anger. It made him rub the back of his neck._

_One deep breath. "About 3 weeks ago. I'm sorry, Peyton. I just can't with you anymore. You're too far away." There. He had said it. He knew it would make her feel bad… guilty even. It would make her not blame him on some level, he supposed. So why did it feel like he just wanted to take it right back?_

_He heard it from her now – one deep breath. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there, Lucas."_

"_I'm sorry too, Peyton. I'm sorry I hurt you." There was that silence again, and then he heard her chuckle bitterly._

"_You know what's funny, Luke? Even now, as I'm hearing you say these things. I'd still say the same thing I said to you that night." That night. He didn't need for her to elaborate on it, he knew which night it was._

"_I'm sorry." Why couldn't he think of anything else to say? Why was his mouth full of I'm sorry's? Those were his silent thoughts, somberly expressed in a heavy sigh, a sigh she reciprocated._

"_It's fine, Luke. I get it." She got it? Got what? He couldn't even get what he had gotten himself into._

"_Get what?"_

"_That people always leave." Click. The line was dead. He stared blankly into space, unbelieving of what he heard. It was the first time in a long time she had said it, and the first time in a long time that he finally accepted what had become of him – Lucas Scott had become an asshole…_

An asshole that just made the biggest mistake of his entire life.

It hadn't taken long for him to end things with Lindsey, she just wasn't what he was looking for. No, what he was looking for he had already lost… and he was afraid that he was much too late to get her back. He was back in high school again, pining away for the one he truly wanted…only now, he had let her slip away.

His friends didn't offer any help. Her best friend-slash-his ex-girlfriend refused to speak to him… not to mention that she hated him with a fire of a thousand suns, maybe even more than Peyton did. His brother had given him a beating not long after that phone call, and though now they were in speaking terms, she had always been the elephant in the room during their conversations. His best friend-slash-sister-in-law had given him an earful, and continues to do rightfully so once in every while. His mother, although silent and neutral for his sake, could not look at him without just a momentary flash of disappointment. Needless to say, Lucas Scott was no longer the darling in his loved ones' eyes.

He was just a few points shy from the man he disdained – his own father.

That was 3 years ago, and he was still reeling from it all… from his own idiocy. Every night, he would sit on this chair and let his mind wander… and his soul fall apart. He would let go, and sometimes he would even cry.

Because it was his fault. That pain in his heart was of his own doing, and he didn't know how he could possibly fix it.

Tonight was one of the nights that brought tears… his head was now cradled in his hands while sobs that spoke of a silent longing wracked his body. His mind could no longer produce the words he needed for his much-awaited book, because his muse was no longer with him.

And he needed her. Oh, how he needed her.

-----

Mornings were no different. He would awake to the sound of birds chirping, but he had none of it. He was robotic during the day, most of his time spent in the business his mother had kept for him and his sister… mechanically doing the most mundane chores, even if it was just to help. He didn't need to work, the earnings and royalties from his first two bestsellers tided him thrice over. But he needed the distraction, and so they let him be.

Until this mid-morning.

He was going about his usual routine – sitting at the corner seat, laptop in tow and coffee on the table, trying so desperately to get two sentences in when he saw it – The black convertible with red interiors.

He saw it from the corner of his eye. It was parked out front, across the street, where the office of the magazine he once submitted her artwork to was located. He blinked once, twice, just to make sure he wasn't imagining it… and sure enough, it was still there. Only, its driver wasn't. He looked to his left, where Haley and her children were and judging from the look in her eyes, he knew she was just as surprised. He couldn't waste one minute… he had to know if she was back.

He walked. No, sprinted… across the street. And then he caught it… From where he was, he unmistakably caught it.

The bob of blond curls. The curls he used to drown his hands in. His heart leapt.

He waited outside the door, sporting the widest smile he had ever felt on himself for years. Waiting so very eagerly for her to come out so he could see her, if only for a moment.

God, his palms were so sweaty. He was nervous as hell, because he knew she would not be pleasant with him. But at this point, he didn't rightly care. She could slap him, she could maul him, she could punch him like she punched Brooke and he would still be smiling.

Because even if just for a moment, to see her again would make him feel alive once more.

She stepped outside and his heart raced faster. Her widening eyes made him nervous as hell, but there was something else… She was surprised, he knew. But she sobered just as quickly, and there was something else in her eyes… He expected anger, he expected rage, he expected violence. Out of all the things he expected, he did not expect to see that in her eyes.

Out of all those things, the last thing Lucas Scott expected to see in her green eyes was forgiveness.

"Hi, Lucas." And out of everything else he expected, he did not expect her to smile at him when she greeted him.

And that was enough to make him break.

He sobbed… wept like a fool in front of her, spitting out apologies and reasons and ranting miseries and whatnot. He grabbed her without gentleness and yet held her so gently against him as he wept, not caring if he wet her curls with his tears. She was here, and she was real… and it was time he made her see how much of a stupid jackass he had been.

Peyton Sawyer deserved his tears, and if at the end of this she decided to leave him hanging, he deserved that too.

When his sobs ceased, she carefully pulled away. She looked at him. God, how he loved the way she looked at him. She reached her hands up and wiped the wetness off of his cheeks. She still cared, and that was enough to let the hope rise from his chest again. It was only a tiny ray of hope, it was… until she spoke again.

"I'm home, Luke. And this is our last chance. Your last chance to come in to my life again. Please don't blow it."

It was barely said above the mists of a whisper, but the screams of utter joy inside of him made him swell. She had forgiven him… better than that, she had given him one last chance.

A chance he committed to not fail again.

----

Four years now. Four years since that last chance. Four years since Lucas Scott had sworn not to screw things up again. Four years, and he was sitting on the low wooden chair his porch again… on this cool, starry night.

Only, this time, he was not sitting alone.


End file.
